


Who Are You, Really?

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps, Mortemer - Fandom, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampire AU, barry and arin are hunters, brian is vampire king, mark is gosh knows what, suzy is dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Barry and Arin are hunting partners.Barry gets captured by a vampire king and figures there's something a little more than bloodsucking going on.





	1. Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> so this is already posted on my wattpad (which i don't use anymore) but i wanted to re-read it and continue writing it.  
> this is my baby

  
 "Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic!" Brian's voice rang through the almost-empty building, his expensive shoes clicking against the concrete as he walked forward. The warehouse was dimly lit, and the man's features were exaggerated, the shadows accentuating lines, creating new ones, pointing out the royalty and disgust.  
"You'll have to try better than that." He stood above a quivering fledgling, feet inches from them. A sneer was clear on his face, dark eyes looking down at the vampire with disgust.  
His left leg drew back, bent at the knee, and connected his foot with the fledgling's stomach. The fledgling whimpered, rolling and trying to prop themselves up on shaking arms. Brian tutted. However, he was not annoyed. His face was blank, silver eyes like stone, flat and lifeless.

"Get up." He said, his tone strong, commanding. The fledgling tried to stand, managing to get to their knees. "I'm getting impatient, Ross," He clicked his tongue, watching the fledgling writhe.   
"I _said_ ," his voice grew harder. He kicked the fledgling with such force that they were moved a couple of inches. "Get up, Ross!"

The fledgling whined, rolling onto his stomach and attempting to get up.   
"You have to understand," Brian mused, nasal tone echoing through the warehouse. "I'm doing this for your own good. You need to be strong." He stepped closer, crouching down and placing his perfectly manicured hand onto the fledgling's shoulder. "I know you can be strong." Brian moved toward the large roller door keeping the warehouse private, and dug into his pocket, brandishing a key. "..Which is why I'm assigning you to someone." He unlocked the door, rolling it up.

A man stepped under the roller door, his puff of hair the first thing the fledgling saw. He was tall, his limbs spidery. Most of his face was hidden by hair, but the fledgling could spot a mouth, stretched wide in a seductive grin. His clothes were both too tight and too loose, hanging and clinging in different places. Brian stood behind him, arms crossed.

 

"Ross," He spoke to the far wall, not bothering to look down. "This is Dan." 

 

* * *

 

Ross watched Dan from afar, under the dim, dusty lights of the room, shadows dancing over his face as he laughed and joked with the other vampires. He was dressed so nicely, an open fur vest contrasting the curls of hair that framed his face. His mouth seemed as if it was constantly curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes welcoming. He looked like a vampire king straight out of comics that Ross had read as a kid. Every other vamp in the hive was grungy, with ripped clothes and scarred skin, hunched back and black, soulless eyes.

Ross had been assigned to Dan for almost a year now, and he'd hardly picked anything up. Sure, he knew how to flirt, he knew how to glamour, he knew how convince someone he was human. But Ross assumed he'd be fighting, killing, doing more exciting things than hanging out with subordinates all night.

Then again, Ross was kind of happy he'd been assigned to Dan. It meant he didn't have to be trained by Brian any more, and Dan was an okay guy. Sure, he mostly thought, talked about, and participated in sex, but he had a good sense of humour, which was hard to find among vampires. Dan also happened to be quite powerful, which meant Ross could put on a puppy face and get some more blood, or clothes, or subs whenever he wanted. Dan was a nice guy at heart, and his intentions usually seemed too good to have been turned by someone as secretive as Brian. Brian..

Ross' train of thought changed as the hive master walked into the room, in all his white-suited-silver-fox-y powerfulness. Ross was actually unsure how old Brian was, but he'd heard mutters amongst the hive that he was over a thousand years old.   _It would make sense_ , Ross absently thought to himself,  _he's so stone-faced a commanding, he's probably royalty, too._    
Brian was hard on everyone. He often talked out the hive's patheticness, how he could kill them all and start fresh. He'd always been hard on everyone.. everyone but Dan. Dan was his star boy, his first turned, his second-in-command. Ross grumbled to himself absently as Brian leant to whisper something into Dan's ear, Dan's wild curls bouncing with each curt nod. When Brian walked off, so did all the subs, and Dan's gaze was now on Ross.

Dan stood, slinking over to Ross in three great strides. He towered over the small vampire, his great smile still on, his large fangs poking against his plush bottom lip.   
"Ross," he purred, voice low and silky. He always used that tone when he needed something from Ross. It drew him in, enticed him. Ross never failed to fall for Dan, not even when he was with others. Ross didn't think anyone could resist him. "I need you to do something for me, babe."

* * *

 

  
The alcohol burned as it hit the back of Barry's throat, causing him to hiss lightly. He held the small glass in his hand, sloshing the half-melted ice and what was left of his drink around in the glass. It crashed against the glass like a wave against a cliff. He supposed it symbolised his rising feelings, or something. Gentle one moment, but always destined to come crashing back.

  
Barry wasn't sure how long he'd been here for, he wasn't sure how much he drank - hell, he wasn't even sure what time it was anymore. He was buzzed, tipsy, maybe a little drunk, but not too out of his inhibitions.. ish. He tipped his head back, finishing his drink and slamming his glass back onto the bar drunkenly. All he knew was that it was late and he'd asked to keep it coming. He felt sad, angry, possibly tired. It was shitty and kind of warm, and he was getting kind of sweaty but only just. The disgusting kind of sticky that went perfectly with a strong drink. There was the softness of country music drifting through the bar. It seemed most people had the same idea. Drink and cry.

Groaning, Barry thumped his head onto the bartop, hand still around his steadily perspiring glass. His eyes trailed over to the glass, looking at the ice slowly melt. Life was shit. Hunting was shit. He was shit.

He wished someone would just come and take him away.

"Y'alright there?" A voice trailed from one side of him, gentle, wondering. Barry picked up the noise. Surely nobody in here could hear his thoughts? He wasn't prepared for a hunt, anyways.  
Barry merely supplied a grunt, picking up his head and inching his glass closer to himself. He wasn't in the mood for conversation, certainly not with a stranger, possibly a monster.   
"Hey. Buddy?" The voice had a higher tilt to it than Barry had ever heard from anyone over the age of eighteen. It was positive and upbeat and slightly annoying. And since Barry supplied no response, the person decided to sit in the vacant stool to his right. He could hear the shitty wood stool creak as the person sat. Barry turned his head lightly, to meet that of a man, looking no younger than himself.  
"Wow." He breathed, some kind of accent tinting the edges of his words. He couldn't really pick out what it was. "You look. Wasted." The man laughed, small and light, a playful 'heh!'. Barry took a moment to admire his features. Angular cheeks, mousy brown hair, piercing blue eyes. His face was gentle and soft and he did not look like he should be here.

"Wha'ddya dooig-urh-what.." Barry's tongue tripped over itself and wow, he really was wasted. Arin would be so happy with him come closing time. Eh. At least the motel was only a few stumbled feet away. "Fugg.. urgh – fugg off kid..." Trying to deter him, Barry waved a drunken hand in the man's direction. He listened absently as his glass was re-filled, but waited a moment before taking a swig.

"Buddy? Pal? Y'alright?" The man's voice was softer this time, his hand reaching out to plant on Barry's shoulder. His touch was cold. Alcohol seemed to get into his system, twisting inside of him to bring forth a bubbling heat. "Am I going to have to carry you home?" The man's voice carried the slight uptilt again, that positive lilt that made him sound so, so... what was in that drink?

Barry could feel himself slipping, the drop of his eyelids, and the slip of his grip on this place. He saw the man before him, in all his... Strangely handsome glory, frowning, looking concerned. His voice bubbled around Barry's ears but it did not reach, dying away as muffled jargon.

 

* * *

 

Barry awoke in a slightly less uncomfortable chair, his mouth dry and numb; like a sock had been stuffed in there and left to culminate all of his saliva. His head was thumping, like a large fist onto the side of his skull, and when he opened his eyes, black spots danced behind his vison, making him dizzy. He could not move his hands, nor his ankles, and his upper arms and chest were constricted by a thick rope, digging into him through his layers. He struggled lightly, a grunt escaping him.

"You..." Barry began to process the whole situation; last night, that man. "You asshole!" he screamed into the empty space, thrashing against his restraints. "You drugged me!" Footfalls echoed around him, a rustle of fabrics causing him to whip his head around.

A man with wild, voluminous hair was moving toward him. He wore a pair of ratty old sneakers, ripped skinny jeans that hung off of his lanky frame, and a black shirt that clung to him almost too tightly. And when he moved further forward, Barry saw a silver flicker of metal around his neck.

The man moved practised, like a puma, slinking forward, long limbs hanging loose, like a liquid, wild hair hiding his eyes. A deadly smirk was stretched across his features, and for the first time in a while, Barry was a little scared.

"Hey babydoll..." The man's voice was smooth like velvet, fitting his person perfectly. His long, thin hands gripped each arm of the uncomfortable chair, just over Barry's forearm. Barry's skin crawled, the urge to pull his arms away nagging at the back of his head. "How you doin'?" he asked, fingers spreading across his forearm, deathly cold. He pulled in close, close enough so Barry could almost see all of his face. He had a large nose, wide lips and large eyes, half-closed, brown irises surrounded by black sclera. Barry froze.

"D-Don't! Wh-where..Who are you?" Stumbling over his words, Barry shifted lightly, hoping to get as far away from this man as possible. The man, however, supplied a hearty chuckle, throwing his head back to show the long line of his throat and his perfect, white teeth.

"Me? I'm not any concern baby." He moved in closer, and Barry could hear him take a breath in, the rustle of clothing, a light groan. "Nah, if you wanna know what we're about, you'll have to talk to daddy." The man shifted and twisted Barry's right wrist uncomfortably, scarping some of the skin against the ties. The man's fingers were now stroking over his soft inner forearm, playing with the skin that had been scraped off, worrying over the reddened areas.

"Okay." Barry began, still shifting, trying to pull himself back into a comfortable position. "Then take me to him." He was about to speak, but the man waggled a long finger at him, ending with a tap on the nose.

"Ah, ah, ah." He tutted, calloused fingertips tracing the inside of Barry's right arm. "First I get to eat."

There was a sound. A kind of wet pop. The man chuckled quietly, and pushed his hair out of his face, pulling it into a loose ponytail. His face, now revealed, was angular, his jaw accented with light stubble. His smile was still wide, accompanied by two large, white fangs. He opened his mouth, and Barry cried out as the man sunk his teeth into Barry's arm. It burned, the cuts stinging as the man sucked on his arm. He was humming lightly, almost in tune with Barry's pained cries.

 

 


	2. Sun Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry Gets introduced to brian and takes a trip to the doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> expect the chapters to fluctuate in word count from now on

Pain.   
All Barry felt was pain.  
Pain in his dry throat, pain in his head, pain in his arm. Dried blood crusted over the chair and onto his pants. The stupid vampire that decided to drink from him took several minutes to drink before licking his lips, giving Barry's arm a squeeze, and exiting with a chuckle. Bastard.  
If he had any clue about vampires, he'd guess he went somewhere to jerk off. Vampires hardly ever fed off humans anymore, it was a luxury. From what he'd heard of vampires, blood straight from the source was 'better' apparently.

Right now, Barry felt like shit. Head clouded, vision blurry, tongue like sandpaper. He'd doubt he'd be able to survive another hour like this.

From what he could hear, someone was approaching. Heavy footfalls landed again and again, swiftly and calmly on the concrete, getting closer and closer until there was a man, crouching down, eye-to-eye with Barry.

He was grey-haired, his face carrying little subtle lines, definition of age. He looked commanding, like a boss or a king. His eyes were grey and stony, relatively human-like.  
The only noises were Barry's soft breathing and the man's rustle of clothes as his dead, grey eyes met with the hunter's. He moved, licking his lips before he spoke.

"What's your name?" His voice carried the slightest of a nasal tone. He certainly sounded commanding, but there was something softer underneath.

"B-m-Barry." It took him a moment to find his voice, scratchy and wavering. The man seemed to notice, but didn't comment.

"Barry, huh?" The man got up, his crisp suit rustling as he moved, accentuating silence. He strode around the chair, cold fingers tracing along Barry's bite, soft and gentle. He was making a noise, a soft hum, as if he were contemplating something.   
"Was Daniel a little rough with you, Barry?" His voice was softer than it had been before, his thumb tracing Barry's inner wrist. If the man - who he would assume was a vampire - fed from him even as half as much as the other had, he'd be dead. Quite dead.

A ring, some sort of garbled jingle rang throughout the room. It sounded like the Beastie Boys...  
Shit.  
It was Arin.   
Arin was calling him, probably still in their hotel, calling him on all of his phones. This was, not a good time.  
The man looked down at Barry's front pocket, frowning. His hands - which Barry noted had some sharp, well-taken care of nails - moved to dig the phone out of his jeans. Between his thumb and forefinger, the man held Barry's shitty old blackberry, jingling away with Arin's crappily-sung version of a Beastie Boy's song. He observed it, and made a questioning noise, looking at the small screen.

"Who's ' _Grump_ '?" he asked, looking at the dumb photo flashing before him. He watched it buzz a little longer before picking up, bringing the small brick-like-phone to his ear. "Hello?" The man spoke into the phone, jamming his free hand into his pant's front pocket.  
"No, yes. I know where Barry is. Yes. He's right here." His voice seemed calm, casual, like he was a friend. Now, it wasn't like the hunter had never experienced that, hell, he'd had himself, screaming back at him, flecks of spit and blood landing on his face as he was assaulted with words about his dead family.   
This was just...   
Arin was easier fooled than Barry, much more gullible. Arin wouldn't pick the subtleties or the fact that this man had not popped up until just now, or it wasn't Barry that had answered his very-private-only-for-me phone. He would just hear news that Barry was okay and then refrain from panicking so much. Barry didn't blame him.

"No, no, he's sleeping. Yeah. Okay. I'll get him to call you back when he's awake. Okay. Buh-bye." The man clicked off the call with a beep, looking Barry in the eyes while he tensed his arm and crushed the phone into many little crappy pieces. A sinister-looking grin painted itself across his features, and he moved forward, knife in hand. Barry tensed lightly, watching as the binds around his wrists and ankles were cut, blood rushing back to them. The man grabbed Barry under his arms, hoisting him up until he was rested on his shoulder.

"I'm Brian." The man spoke as they walked, moving out of the warehouse-type room and into another, slightly-better looking building. As they walked down a hall and into a wider, darker opening, Barry heard hisses and saw shadows flitting around in the ceiling rafters, many - what he assumed were - vampires jumping and slinking in from places to smell the 'fresh' human. Several of them came to walk beside them, breathing in heavily at every opportunity.

They walked into a larger, ballroom-looking place, which was definitely better-lighted. As they passed several ratty tables, Barry caught the eye of the guy from last night. With his piercing blue eyes and his stupid fucking betrayal. Barry felt as if he could spit on him.   
Even though he looked apologetic, he could still burn him, shoot him, and flay him over and over. It would bring him so much joy. Given, he didn't do much, but Barry needed someone to peg the source of his problems on, and this guy was it.

He was taken over to a different table, over the other side of the large room, where a tall, lanky man with wild hair sat. Oh. He turned his head up and gave a seductive grin as the older vampire placed him down in a metal chair with rotting cushions.

"Hey Brian." The man spoke. He had a blissed-out tone to his voice, and looked actually quite chill. Brian however, did not seem so 'chill'.

"Dan." His voice was stern and commanding, like a father. "What did you do to him?"

"Chill B," he retorted, feeling the hostility in the other's voice. "You said watch him. Y'know? So I _watched_ him." He gave a playful wink.

"I meant actually take care of him Daniel," Barry felt as if he was in between two parents fighting, and he couldn't do anything. Literally. "I didn't want you to almost kill him." Brian made a grumbling noise and scratched his long nails across a piece of bared wood on the table. It made a screeching noise that the vampire called Dan reeled back at.

"Jesus Brian!" Dan covered his ears, shaking his head. "I get it! I get it! What do you want me to do?"

"Take him to Mark. He knows how to handle this kind of thing." Brian only took a moment to peer over at Barry before he looked back at Dan. "Now."

"Alright, okay, I'm going!" Dan huffed, getting up, his long limbs stretching out to grab Barry around his shoulders, hoisting him up. 'C'mon big guy," he murmured. "Let's go see Mark."

*

Again, they trudged down another hallway, Dan's arm wound loosely Around Barry's shoulders, humming to himself as his head whipped left and right, puffy hair flowing around his head as he continued to walk, making an 'Err...' noise. He eventually stopped, before he sped up, moving toward a cloudy glass door.

"Uh. Here." He moved to the side, hand on the long doorknob. "Er, sorry about the whole- blood thing dude. No hard feelings?"

"Asshole."

"Alright, uh, okay." Dan stepped back opening the door. "Have fun then."

* * *

 

It was dark in the room. Darker than Barry had expected. There was a dim, moth-bitten lamp splaying light over one fifth of the room, illuminating the silhouette of a man writing desperately at a desk, hunched over. The metallic stench of blood hung in the air, and a sick feeling was creeping at Barry's stomach. He stood just in front of the door, trying to get his dry eyes to adjust to the light.   
By then the man had turned around, half of his face lightly bathed in the shitty lamplight. There were a pair of thin glasses askew on his face, and his hair was a mess. It looked as if he'd run his hands through it many times. There was a thick tuft of hair atop his head, the whole of it a rich burgundy red. The man breathed in, turning back and re-arranging his papers.

"Ah. And you are?" He looked around Barry's age, his chiselled face a little more angular.

"Ba-uh- Brian sent me here." He guessed that was the best response.

"Oh." The man seemed a little surprised? "Okay, well, what's, uh, what's up?"

Barry actually wasn't sure how to respond, so he offered his blood-covered arm, to which the man reeled back a little, then leant forward to inspect.

"So-so you're -- you're not a vampire?" He hummed lightly, moving forward to wrap his fingers around Barry's arm, flicking off dried blood and stretching the skin, squinting and running his thumbs along the skin. "Okay.. Uh. Um. Si-sit down then." The man moved, rolling in his desk chair to switch on a large medical light in the middle of the room, like the ones they have in dentist's rooms.

How did Barry not notice that?

Barry moved, sitting on the table in the middle of the room, acid bubbling in the bottom of his stomach. It felt sort of like a doctor's visit, but more intimidating. The man rolled into his view, holding a single surgical needle.

"Hi, I'm Mark.." He started, his tone gentle, as if trying not to spook a horse. "Now this won't hurt a bit..." Barry watched in awe as the hair atop his hair slowly changed colour, to a brighter purple. He saw this as a perfect time to jam the needle into one of Barry's wounds, emptying the syringe. Barry jerked back, almost breaking the needle.

"What the fuck was that?!" He watched as Mark's hair progressed to a yellow, the man recoiling in fear.

"I-it was n-nothing! Just-just something to help the healing. D-Don't hurt me, please!" Mark's hands were held up in front of himself, eyes squeezed shut, head turned to the side. Barry was about to respond before he saw the burns lacing Mark's upper arms, the ripples on his skin and red marks. Barry could only loosely piece together in his mind what could have been done to him.

"I.. Ah, okay." Barry supplied, his eyes burning due to the intense light. This man obviously wasn't a vampire, vampires didn't burn like that. But he wasn't human either. "D'ya know where I can get something to eat?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm,, still not sure what mark is but the rapid change of his hair colours inspired the mood-ring hair


	3. Moon Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Something is definitely up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,,, i swear arin cares.

Ross watched from afar as Brian led Dan away, one arm around his back loosely. They looked casual, but Ross was suspicious.

At least they were talking again.

Ross looked down at his thumbs, up at the ceiling, over at the several gross vampires sniffing where that human had just been sitting. God. No wonder Brian sent Ross out to get a human. It seemed as if every other vampire in this place, even Dan, couldn't resist. It wasn't that hard.

It was just willpower.

Dan didn't have much of that, did he?

Ross was so busy thinking to himself that he hardly noticed Brian approach, hand outstretched.  
Ross, unthinking, took his hand, letting himself be pulled onto his feet and led down the hall, into another room.

When Brian opened the door, Ross stepped in first, and what he saw was a sight to behold. Dan sat there, slumped in a chair, long legs outstretched, black blood pooling on his shirt, around his mouth, his hands. His head was tilted down was far as it would go, his locks covering his face, making only a small part of it visible.

"Brian?" Ross turned to him, eyes wide, like a child. He knew what Dan did wrong, he heard Brian say it, everyone did. He did something he wasn't supposed to. But Brian hardly ever punished anyone anymore.

"Go ahead Ross." He made a motion for him to move forward, toward Dan. And so he did.

Ross was kind of intimidated, scared of what he'd done to Dan, how he'd done it in such a short span of time.

"W-what did he do?" Ross got closer to his friend, hand reaching out to touch what he assumed was blood. It was black and thick, coming out of his nose and mouth in thick rolls, pooling on his shirt. When Ross reached out to touch it, it was sticky, and a long strand of it connected his finger to Dan's shirt.

"I think you know what he did," Brian tutted, still standing with his arms crossed. "But this wasn't me. This happened before I could do anything." He walked forward, hand resting on Dan's shoulder. The vampire groaned, shifting in his seat.

"Wa-was it the man he fed off?" Ross cursed himself absently for bringing him home - he was supposed to find a fresh, slightly-drunk meal for the nest to feed on. What he brought was a.. He wasn't sure what he brought.

"I'm afraid so, Ross." Brian breathed out sharply, crossing his arms as he stood, watching Ross still crouched by Dan. Ross was the most unlike a vampire he'd ever seen.

He was an ass sometimes, but he was compassionate about his friends and quite timid when it came to someone with more power than him. He was more like a human than anything else.

"But for now, take Dan to a room he can rest in, get him fresh blood. Make sure he recovers." Dan was more like a son to Brian than anything. He'd picked him up, he was his first turned, and a great fighter. And after Dan took a liking to Ross, so did Brian. Ross was actually a useful pawn, because he was so much like a human.

Ross bit his lip as he hoisted Dan up, Brian watching as his head lulled, feet trying to get purchase. The black liquid came off of Dan's shirt in strings, getting on his pants and the floor beneath him. Brian watched as Ross pulled Dan along with him, mumbling things to himself and the tall man leaning on him. Brian looked at the puddles of liquid before him.

"Well done Ross." Brian called out as Ross heaved the tall vampire out the door. A swell of pride grew in the young vampire's chest; he'd impressed Brian. But alongside that, a trickle of worry ran across his chest.

If Barry wasn't human, what was he?

* * *

 

Mark walked slowly.  
Barry realised this as he strolled behind the shorter man, watching as he kept his eyes on the sweeping and curling halls. He had a kind of slow, shuffling gait that might annoy the less patient.

Currently his hair was a powdered baby blue, like the sky on a clear day. He had several papers in his hands, and was shuffling toward two large doors, looking as if they'd lead to a kitchen.

Mark pushed past them, moving into, indeed, a large kitchen. It was very cold, as if the whole place were a refrigerator. Mark moved to the side, and shrugged, his hair moving onto a very light orange. He motioned to a row of several retro-looking fridges.

"There's stuff in the fridges. Mostly steaks an' blood, but I think there's meatloaf too? Not sure how old it is though." He supplied a shrug and looked around, searching for something to cook in.

Eventually he brought out a pan, to which Barry put in some oil and a strangely wet steak. It sizzled more than any steak should, and even when mostly cooked, it still reeked of blood.

"Oh yeah," Mark murmured. "That's gross."

Eventually, Barry had cooked the steak. He sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen, ripping pieces off with his bare hands. It looked like there was no cutlery, and frankly, he wasn't surprised. Then it got to the point where Barry was mostly full and looking for a tap that actually worked, and Barry chose that moment to strike a conversation.

"So... What're you doing here?" he asked absently, turning the third knob he'd found and groaning at the lack of water it spouted.

"Huh?" Mark turned to look at him from where he was playing with his hands and shuffling about papers.

"Well," Barry started off, turning another knob. Nothing. "You're definitely not a vampire, that's for sure."

"I'm... I owe someone a debt." He seemed distant.

"Brian?"

"No. Uh, not Brian. Someone else."

"Who?" Another knob. Nothing.

"..A vampire. But I'm sure you've figured that out."

"Yeah. I guessed." Barry headed over to the last faucet he could see, hoping this was the one. "Also, what's up with your hair?"

"What do you mean 'what's up with my hair'?" Did he seriously not notice his mood ring hair?

"Wuh-uh... never mind I gu- Eureka!" Barry watched as water flowed from the faucet.

Too thirsty to look for a cup, he held what he could in his hands, and when that failed, decided to drink straight from the tap. Barry never thought he'd cry because of water (again), but here he was.

  
It took him a moment to get his mind back before he turned the faucet off and turned to Mark, wiping his mouth with his arm. He cleared his throat, looking around. The kitchen was fairly clean, which was good. They wanted to keep the blood as sterile as possible, he supposed.

"Hey, uh, hope ya' don't mind me asking, but, uh, what's up with the burns?" Barry kind of just wanted to take conversation, but not about himself.

"Those?" Mark took a moment to look at them himself. "Now those, they're from Brian. He's a... well he's an asshole. Biggest nest in possibly the whole of America and it was started by that guy." He looked at the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up, his hair was red again, but this time a more maroon colour. "Control freak, that's the word. Guy likes to think he's the 'big daddy' of all of us. Commanding and father-like, to the point of it being a pain in the ass." He grumbled for a moment and Barry sat back up on the island.

  
"See, after I started to stay here, Brian learned of my _surgical_ _expertise_ ," there was a certain sarcasm to his voice. "I was studying, at the time. He said I could, and I quote, 'help with injuries'. Y'know, at first, like any other guy, I was confused. Vampires don't get injuries, and if they do, they do _not_ need them to be treated. But then I learned... He didn't mean the nest." His hair was a darker blue, colours rolling through his hair like waves.

"He had me keeping several people alive, to feed off of, so they wouldn't have to kill so many people. It was disturbing to say the least. The pleading, the screaming, the crying. It was gross. Not to mention the other things. Experimentation, torture. The punishments." He shook his head.   
"But the whole time, I didn't think about how it was his fault, all I could think about was how it was Brian's fault. He turned him when he didn't need to, I got caught in that situation and he had to be an asshole." The anger spilled over with his last word, rage evident in his voice. "But it was indebted to him, and I couldn't leave, and I still can't"

"I.. I don't get it. " Barry looked up at Mark, whose hair was a bright red. "Who are you indebted to?"

"Leigh Daniel Avidan" Marks words were like poison, his hair a sickly green. "Brian's little pup."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> barry and mark bonding i guess !  
> and there was going to be rubberdoop but i think just rubberbang now oops  
> ohand ross it totally and twink in this nnno doubt  
> (did mark and dan used to date. is that it.))

**Author's Note:**

> so,, suzy is dead, brian is the vampire king and dan is a sexy (i guess)


End file.
